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Correct Charlie Clips Vs. Brizz Rawsteen Lyrics
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Correct Charlie Clips Vs. Brizz Rawsteen
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[Round 1: Brizz Rawsteen] Brizz versus Charlie! It's gon’ be a crazy one! It's a lot of battles on this card, and it's gon’ be ya favorite one And I ain't gon' play wit' him I'm gon' leave a hole in somethin', BAOW! It's gon’ be the cranium I’ll cave it in You gon' need head wraps, you gon’ look Arabian! Crazy shit, told his mama I'm gonna put his baby in a sleeper hold You gon' see me breakin' shit Who callin’ Clips they favorite? Well, you gon' get ya faces split! [*sshhk*] Y'all all see the razor lift! I go against the grain wit' it and keep goin' around: I'm 360 wavin' shit! Smack called, said he ready to book it Told him I'm ready to cook him I'ma kill you for every one of y'all that said that I wouldn't Y'all gon' see the steam - [*chk-chk*] - deletin' scenes That mean I'm cuttin' Clips like I'm editin' footage Speakin' of footage Bitch, I have Clips bleedin' everywhere before he drop Now we leakin' the footage What scrap forgot? You must ain't seen my scrap wit' Roc Cause now we in Houston and my Geto Boys will give him a Scarface if he Rap-A-Lot I had to switch it out Nigga this time the fif' is out Choppin' on ya shit, chop-choppin' on ya shit {Slow it down like it's chopped and screwed} Chop-choppin' on ya shit, chop- We roll up with the SIG up: I'mma Swishahouse! Houston, I'm flamin' dude My Slim Thug leave him Sittin' Sideways Cause the bullets in this tre (Trae) The Truth I'm talkin' all y'all My white boy leave ya brains on Paul Wall He run down on and have him runnin' from the pound like a lost dog Texas, I roll with some Outlawz like the Boss Hogg Texas, it's the devil with the Longhorns Do I ball? Nah No shot clocks or scoreboards But I get us in the shot with a gun long as small forward I have ya mother suckin' cock on the hard floor on all fours Like, "Oh, Lawd!" I came smokin', I don't want that Clips that came jokin' I want that Clips that came focused Two rounds? I can't do shit wit' Clips that ain't loaded My raps is legit, they know my raps is the shit But I feel like Drake 'cause I'm up against a nigga only known for half of the clips (Clipse) Y'all better let Clips know One call to my Texas folk, the TECs get blown The Fire Stick fuckin' Clips up like the Netflix broke! Look around, I got 'em sittin' 'round by the exit rows The gun ain't petty: it know how to let shit go! I brought the Arm and the Hammer, I ain't stretchin' coke! I put 30 in him: that's how ya turn Clips into an extendo I'm tryin' to get my money right You know, extend dough I give this new bitch five shots, but give his ex ten tho' Smack, you said this was a Texas show So I came for the big bread like Texas Toast You pull up, all you see is the pumps like Texaco Smack, we got no space for this, predictable, basic shit He fake as shit Like how he vegan, but Born Legacy weekend, he was orderin' a steak and shrimp? That's right, that's right, it was me, T-Top, Tay Roc, Rain, and Clips He had a major dish, plate this big I said, "Goddamn! Who the fuck gon' pay for this?" It don't matter The SIG Sauer get a pig slaughtered into bacon bits You a gamblin' man, play ya cards right, save ya chips 'Cause I'ma light this bitch up like a Vegas strip I piss in ya girl cup and make her take a sip Right hooks will have more Chins on the block than an Asian pimp Ya not gettin' rich! If Clips get into a bag, it's on chips at the top of the fridge Y'all know how clips be on the bag of chips at the top of the fridge? Okay, stop with the shit! You said your whole life, your moms had you locked in the crib Playin' the game, sloppy as shit Never able to speak when the topic is chicks That's why you 37 years old, and you ain't got you no kids You a fake fraud Fat nigga that hate hard And yo' fat ass look like you 'bout two days from a rape charge He got daddy issues! But from the world, that's somethin' he wanna safeguard But it's the Godfather, and even Al Paci' know you will get your face scarred! I'mma black on all these niggas: I hate to pull the race card Your mans have been demoted, and you can't even control it The pistol twerk (Twork) in ya mouth That mean when it's strapped in, it could snap at any moment! You don't do drugs!? Your brains will be on Smack at any moment! Yeah? Brains? Drugs? Smack at any moment!? I'm so motherfuckin' mean wit' it I'll bring that shit and do a whole 'nother scheme wit' it! Nigga, ya brains will be on Smack at any- Fuck it, I'm so motherfuckin' mean wit' it For a whole seventeen minutes I'll open your mother mouth and put the whole fuckin' thing in it! [Round 1: Charlie Clips] I said yo, my grandmoms called me the other night And she said, "Baby, let me give you some advice You only as good as your last battle." I said, "But, Grandma, I won 13 in a row." She said, "Oh, baby, I know, but the fans are only gon' talk about that Ave battle." She said, "What happened anyway?" I said, "It was 200 degrees, the AC broke, he choked, I was on- Long story short: it was a bad battle." She said, "Well, baby, do everybody a favor If you not gon' go hard no more, it don't even make sense to have battles." I said, "So what you want me to do, Grandma?" She said, "I want you to walk on stage and look in that snake eyes (Snake Eyez) like a Math battle And show 'em I'm O'fficial wit' a big head like one of Jaz battles Hit his whip, make the car flip It's gon' be his last battle! 'Cause they gon' find him on the Freeway with no beat like one of Cass' battles!" Houston, I'm on my shit! Oh, I'm smellin' it, inhalin' it MAC, Ruger, .9, pumps, All That, Kenan & Kel'in' it T-Top, mind ya business, or ya head gon' get a shell in it And you gotta live the rest of ya life without Top: nigga, ya celibate Ask Houston if Brizz better than me and watch they say, "Never" Aye, Loso! You did a Rocket scheme earlier, cool But I got one I think is way better Aye, Houston, y'all know Charles been playin' wit' the Rockets in '9-8 My whole team great Eddie Johnson: it don't get a lot of burn, but it's a mean eight The deuce-deuce, make ya soul glide like Clyde into a dream state Then Olajuwon hit 'em while he sleep and make his dream shake Nigga talkin' 'bout he got Berettas and shoot better than Eric Gordon You need to stop it, fella If the Clip fall, Chris Paul, 'cause the handle is gon' drop whoever Nana and Clint: that's two big Rockets that control the block together But if I put Clint in (N) the center then everything goin' acapella (Capela) With these MACs, I'm the one that you call on whenever you need answers He had a Rocket, but it fell off, harder than Steve Francis I put niggas in comas for years when that thing sparkin' You gon' go to sleep lookin' like Ariza, but you gon' wake up lookin' like James Harden Aye, Smack, you put me against a crackhead You don't get a face like that from sippin' Bacardi and rollin' up spliffs of the Marley You know my name in London mean "cocaine", so you was out there sniffin' the Charlie? And you ain't do it by yourself, I heard you had your wife sniffin' it probably So we can find yay' ('Ye) in ya queen's bridge (Queensbridge) like Nas's listenin' party But you know what!? I'm over that! I'm back with that AK and that shoulder strap Y'all know the one, that's like a ratchet parent at they kid graduation because it (over-clap!) Nah, nigga, I'm about that life And I got a new AK, and it's about to strike And it clap more than a little black girl that's about to FIGHT! Oh, but you want me to rap about a knife Okay Brizz, don't let Clips get you Let's not forget, your machete disloyal and I think that was a big issue See, this was a little knife This my wife, but you can take the bitch wit'chu See, she not disloyal 'cause when you give her back, she still tryin' to stick wit'chu Aye, but fuck a machete and a lil' knife Let's talk about guns, I like to grip mine I'm infatuated with hammers, I'm talkin' big time Like if I call my gun connect phone, and he don't wanna answer the shit? Fine J Prince Jr., I'm walkin' all through Houston lookin' for 6-9! (6ix9ine) Round 1, nigga [Round 2: Brizz Rawsteen] {Brizz clapping} The nigga ain't never got no- Give it up for Charlie Clips, man! That was good, man. That was good, man! That was GOOD, man! That was mean, man! That was mean My, my, my, my, my, how heavy is the head that wore the crown I mean you once was a king, then you came with these awful rounds I guess since the game done got watered down They figured me and the bum Clips can go to war for now You used to rhyme iller But nigga, now you Godzilla I say that 'cause you was a monster but it's been awhile since you tore shit down After ya loss to Lux, you was in a loss to luck You lost ya way, you lost ya babe, you even lost a little weight I figured he had lost enough The fans said, "Charlie, he don't give us that same feel" I said, "That's 'cause he lost his touch" Well, now you on Wild N Out Well, my nigga, is you bossin' up? Or are you just another battle rapper that's on Nick's nuts? Keep it real, yo' fat ass still in that Harlem apartment stuck Ya walkin' bruh, Smack send one car to get all y'all picked up Called his slut She said, "Yeah, he fat. Charlie gut make it hard to fuck He trash and his bars just suck He garbage, plus he was doin' so bad, him and Goodz had to partner up." Nigga, talk ya stuff I'm here to spar wit' Chuck, he gotta sharpen up My aim right on the money like "In God We Trust" I dump the can' in his back: he a garbage truck I don't care what Clips act like 'Cause see, Clips that type that jump the ship That's right: he left URL to go suck Nick At Night! This is a bitch bull versus a pit bull I get the fif' pulled [*ch-ch*] When he catch one in the head, you know the Clips full I show ya how to handle Clips First you gotta duct tape the handle grip The machete slip ya top, then peel him: now he Banana Clips Yo, I was a fan of Clips! Goddamn it, we all was fans of Clips! What I don't understand is this Every time yo' ass showed up shitty, the fans pull up to Pamper Clips I want that pullin' them dirty clothes out the hamper Clips I want that fat ass, "Give me everything upon my sandwich Clips" All that and a bag of chips, and the dip Quiet Charlie You fake, don't even try it Charlie How the fuck is you this fat, and you been on a vegan diet, Charlie? (You just sucked ya stomach in, too, nigga) I ain't surprised with Charlie Char-L-I-E: I can see the "lie" in "Charlie" I'm violent Charlie I put a knife through the right it'll come out the other side of Charlie He'll survive it hardly Before it jam, rock, it locks on all they fam', they not the Marleys But they still get the smoke from the SIG (cig) like Rastafaris My Philly niggas will hop out and chase you: you're not Safaree! My white boys raise arms and got some baldies: it's a Nazi party We ain't playin' wit' him In Texas you gon' see a mean blade in him And that shit'll open ya dome like AT&T Stadium I told you, I'm givin' Clips the magazine just for kicks like the Eastbay It's like the knife keep singin' the same song in that weak fade Cause I keep bringin' that shit back like a DJ It's the stingray With the sling blade I kill 'em, they can't bring Clips back: it ain't no replays Motherfucker, you got jokes and Raw flips He don't know I'm bipolar, you'll die if Raw flip I'm on some wire jaw shit I let this iron off, bruh The side come off ya, it's sayonara I'm sendin' big rounds through the air like flyin' saucers The animal is back All they seen is the dawg on Clips like When Animals Attack Rogue warrior with the Hawk: Animal is back! Nigga, I came for the fight in the damn street This Zangief, the fang teeth The knife toss and turn in a nigga like it can't sleep Rappin'? I'm just better at it I got a resume of better matches All kings die and tonight, nigga yo' head detaches Not only is you losin', I'm takin' away ya legend status But to be all the way honest, nigga, you never had it Darkside, nigga [Round 2: Charlie Clips] I said yo, Brizz Brandon Rawsteen You is one confused silly nigga Born in Delaware, raised in North Carolina But all yo' life, you wanted to be a Philly nigga You thought you was gonna grow up and really get a track on Dreams & Nightmares wit' Meek Milly nigga? You silly nigga! Two guns, one in the left, but the bald head comin' from the right like Gillie, nigga! You so fuckin' sad Ayo, Houston, you wanna know what got me so fuckin' mad? (What?) This nigga beard can't even fully grow but he wanna be from Philly so fuckin' bad My nigga, look at ya sideburns That ain't even hair, that's a fuckin' scab If you do go to Philly, I bet you won't step foot outta the fuckin' cab Make me put this knife to ya cheek, Raw Bring it down, then let the shit poke him Then I had the TEC (Tech) 9 black (Blac) in ya face; Champion I'm just jokin' But I will throw a smoke bomb in ya mother house and have the shit smokin' Then it's gon' be like a Cortez battle cause all you gon' see is ya sis' (Cyss') chokin' Talkin' 'bout how you be in Philly and you play wit' strippers And you touch money and you one of they favorite tippers You get a little money, buy some Dutch and a Spade Now you think you gettin' major figures Oh, this is why I don't play with niggas Western Conference, Rockets, Blazers, Clippers If we was in Philly, I'd shoot so good I could've saved the Sixers But this nigga need to save his sister Cause Smack hit it twice before Beasley introduced her to URL, I had her bent over like she was tryin' to wipe the floor My nigga Surf just came home to buy a condom, and he was gettin' ready to pipe the whore But I told Surf, "You don't even need a condom, because Tsu, she (sushi) like it raw" Speakin' of Raw, when you added that to your name, did you tell yourself, "Dang, it's awesome." Was writin' in ya book, graffiti artwork, you used to tag it often? Okay, Raw, well my pistol whip game sick wit' the Mag', it's awesome I would beat Raw 'til he's sick wit' a Cookie like Magic Johnson Aye, talkin' 'bout you gon' rob me But wear some hardware if you try to take my key I will give this little nigga 21 and over like a fake ID {Guy in the crowd starts to boo. Clips ain't havin' it and starts talking back to the crowd} You ain't boo Brizz ONCE when he was shitty! You ain't gon' boo me, nigga {That REALLY gets the crowd going. Now they're all booing.} Got 'em. Got 'em. Got 'em. Got 'em Houston, listen, I understand it's not everybody I know half of the crowd still fuck wit' Clips But we gon' play a game Next time you boo me, you suckin' dick! {Crowd starts cheering} Don't be scared to boo now! This round 'bout to be crazy from now on Like I said, nigga talkin' 'bout he gon' rob me of my work Tell him to wear some hardware if he try to take my ki' I give this little nigga 21 and over like a fake ID My [?] gon' say "Yo, Rawsteen fire. You gotta keep it safe, my G." I told that nigga I'm two levels above Raw: I'm H.I.V! Goddamn, I'm barkin', and the can' is sparkin' Shootin' everybody in the precinct, from you to Lieutenant and the sergeant This nigga called my phone last week like, "Yo, can I borrow ya gun?" Talkin' 'bout, "I gotta jam a target." I told that nigga, "I don't share magazines, I'm Angry Man from Martin." But I'm from Crime Square, where the little niggas on the block play on all kind of stoops These niggas hustle hard in the summer Sweatin', while losin' weight like a sauna suit They serve fiends by the tens, they be servin' all kind of groups Fuck a measurin' cup, we got pictures of the white girl like a Madonna shoot 100 shots, Phil callin' up, who let the mamba loose Aye, this ya kin, Tay? (Kinte) Well, you gon' lose all kinda Roots Fuck Timbs! These bullets is freaks: they knockin' all kinda boots Head shot, the nigga head leakin' all kinda fruit His melon was everywhere, the crime scene look like Jamba Juice Y'all can try to hate on the God, as long as them checks come And don't worry Houston, I'ma rock it (Rocket) on the next one I got you [Round 3: Brizz Rawsteen] It ain't complicated Clips, by now, you ain't figured it out? You had your own room in the crib, Smack talkin' 'bout kickin' you out, sittin' you down Nigga, all you had to do was finish ya rounds Long road, but you at the end of it now No matter how much gas he might get from the crowd Is this how you want them to remember you clown? It ain't all rap, sometimes you gotta talk to a lame It ain't all about a loss or gain It's about every time we cross this stage, it's like we walk through flames Yep, we still do it, that's called "insane" First you winnin', it's the fancy, flossin' chains Then the losses came and ya head down Then ya headed down the walk of shame Nigga, one bad shot can cost the game Hollow killed you, I watched Lux cause you pain Never thought he'd let the world know ya mom's real name Never thought he'd show the world paperwork with ya father's name But I'm guessin', these things just the cost of fame Cause you had love and lost it, mayne Now Nick Cannon ya boss, that's strange 'Cause he could've told you Love Don't Cost A Thing! Nigga, cut the lies and shit You can't lie to Brizz You let the world think DNA was ridin' ya coattail and really you was ridin' his! DNA, these niggas not ya friends He couldn't wait to let us know it was him who gave you a spot to live Remember when they used to let you sleep on the couch and beg ya bitch to let you sleep in the house like 'Pac and BIG? Nigga, this that arm long as Olajuwon, Houston Rocket shit But the arm spin wit' the shot like Dominique They used to watchin' Clips Even a couple bootleg niggas who copied Clips I'm cut, pastin' and croppin' Clips You know, takin' him out the pic Now who will vouch for this? I wanna know how come this coward just stood and watched the white boy give ya man the beats like The Alchemist Shout-out Hoffa, bitch! I should take Math 'matic and subtract yo' ass: it ain't calculus But if it was I'd probably know where yo' houses is 'Cause calculus, well, that's the study of findin' property See, I got that from math Not Hoffa, the class You the type of rapper to get shot in the ass You a Wal-Mart, Paul Blart cop and a half And you don't know nothin' 'bout coppin' a half You 'bout a 49 waist tryin' to squeeze into 39-and-a-halfs You a fat nigga, usin' the soap that never wash wit' a rag I got a problem wit' that It's the black God, chief of the Tribe of Shabazz You better make good use of the little time that you have Or I'ma make you the next famous bitch found drowned in a bath R.I.P. Whitney, Houston, you done came down a country bro Long shottys, rusty .4's American Dream, drop him: Dusty Rhodes! This baby will sniff him out, dawg: it got a puppy nose Tell ya man Goodz he better cool it dude I put the .9 to ya baby face (Babyface) like this is for the Cool In You This is a crock of shit And y'all watchin' this He think I came to talk about how his pop a snitch And how he told more about the game then Gregg Popovich Nah, it's more about you fuckin' up your accomplishments How you was in my top 10, then you dropped a bit, then just dropped from it Nigel shot you some good advice, you should've followed it But you died It's ironic: they were Hollow tips Can you see it? After tonight they won't care about you You had heart, I'm here to tear it out you I pistol-whipped yo' ass Yeah, I bring the strap 'round his head like a pair of goggles They gon' try to defend dude Before I go, third round vs Lux, when you said, "Y'all wanna talk about my pops bein' a snitch? Well, his pops is a snitch, too." Right then I said, "This nigga prolly a snitch, too!" Why you mention dude? Darkside, nigga [Round 3: Charlie Clips] Y'all liked the way he talked to me? Aight, now it's time to talk to him NOME 8, this my closin' verse Like fuck a casket, throw this bastard in the back and just close the hearse Every time Brizz mother open and close her shirt, it make a nigga wanna go berserk And just put it in If you wasn't stuck in T-Top's shadow for so long, just imagine what ya coulda been My nigga, you have been on more teams than Robert Horry Brizz, becomin' ya own man is not hard It's like you was leading Darkside to the light, then you reversed the whip and joined Dot Mobb Then when Dot Mobb was losin' control, it's like you, jumped out the whip to join another group You was tryin' so hard to swerve outta that Rex lane that you crashing and still ended up under Murda Mook Then you figured, "Nah, let me change lanes 'Cause the insurance is looking better over there with Cave Gang." I don't know if leavin' Dot Mobb is that Progressive But joinin' Tay Roc squad is the same thing My nigga, stop talkin', before I paralyze you and you stop walkin' Let me ask you this: what is your profession? You a team-hoppin' nigga that don't bust guns but claim he hold the weapon Now I know why you put Raw in ya name 'Cause you ridin' these niggas dick with no protection Oh, it's time to go night-night I could bar ya life away, but me and Suge wanna know what ya life like 'Cause nigga, your soul more fucked up than Lil' Bow Wow's in Like Mike Oh this is the part where we bow our heads as brother Brandon Brizz Rawsteen soul is prepared to leave us And I heard you don't believe in God Cool, 'cause we can still play "Swear to Jesus" My nigga, swear to Jesus, you love Dot Mobb, and you respect that group whether they dead or not Nigga, swear to Jesus you love Tay Roc more than T-Top cause Cave Gang put ya career in a better spot My nigga, swear to Jesus- Look at T-Top like, "Okay, king, ya better stop." My nigga, swear to Jesus if they was fallin' off the roof right now, you would hold Tay Roc hand instead of Top Look at him, he tryin' to think about it "I ain't gon' lie y'all, that was a close call But you know me, I'm Brizz Rawsteen: I'll let 'em both fall." See, the problem is, ya Lifestyle revolves around grabbin' a Magnum And that's why I be sayin' you be doin' the most Raw See you can have the Power but by the time he (Tommy) realize it the stupid nigga done let Ghost fall And that's why this nigga here is Tariq Oh here is some information I wanna provide for you Y'all remember when Hitman and Verb was gon' fuck him up? T-Top was ready to slide for you But what you didn't notice was Rain jumpin' in the middle, my nigga Rain was ready to ride for you And that's why I call you Tariq 'cause ya stupid ass ain't even know Rain'll (Raina) die for you! Ayo, Houston! We got a problem! I should let the chrome rise Head shot, if he survive, he gon' wake up thinkin' we at NOME 5 Talkin' 'bout you puttin' bodies in the bag like hash browns and you startin' to believe ya own lies Head shot, I give your dome five And nobody in the crowd heard it, 'cause I'm seasoned wit' the potato like home fries Now it's a wrap, if Nina kiss you, you won't get a chance to kiss her back All these Gs in ya Unit, and I still bet 50 that you won't Get The Strap! Listen SMACK, is this nigga from Delaware He can lose his Apple if I grip the MAC Survive? How can he (Kenny) when this Smith ain't never sit with Shaq Stop talkin' through my rounds about this and that You battled O, but couldn't put ya hands on Red like a Twister mat They said I fell off, always wanna question my legacy I figured that When I beat legends like Serius Jones and Iron Solomon I don't know which one was the bigger match But I gave Jones and that Jew L's (Juelz) on Cam' like a Diplomat Aye, Calicoe! Don't worry, I'mma get you soon But before I end this verse R.I.P. to my nigga Boom You thought it was over!? This nigga gotta be the biggest fool! 'Cause I brought the biggest tool Revolver: six spin through eight like it's middle school Go 'head and brush ya waves I let the cannon ball in them shits like a swimmin' pool They said I fell off... Well, I guess NOME 8 got me in a different mood For real now [Brizz Rawsteen] It's my turn! Yo! [Charlie Clips] Oh, alright Now that's a 2-1!
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